The Window Into Draco's Soul
by ShadowReader
Summary: Draco angsts. Elton John appears.


The Window Into Draco's Soul

Done as a response to a challenge issued by Sir Omniflyer. Holy heck, it's been a while since I've done this.

I kinda miss it.

Disclaimer: Characters are JKR's. Sir Elton John belongs to himself, and appears without permission.

The Window Into Draco's Soul

Draco lay on his bed, languishing. His leather pants hadn't come in yet (damn the designer- what the hell were they thinking, shipping them only two hours after he'd requested them?) and he had nothing to do. He could feel the boredom slipping slowly through his veins... his mind turned to dark things... terrible things...

How could he live his life like this? Sure, he was beautiful, blonde, lived in a manor house and soon would have very spiffy pants. But, how could he be happy? His whole life his father had told him how inferior he was, how unworthy to be a wizard. Sometimes it was just verbal abuse. Sometimes the lesson would be beaten into him with the pimp cane his father was always carrying around. But it mattered not to Draco; either way was completely unpleasant for his secretly sensitive soul.

Not only that, but at school he was disregarded.. ignored... his genius swept aside. No one payed attention to him. He was continually humiliated and brought low by Harry Potter and the Mudbloods. And his friends? Forget them. They just wouldn't listen- even Pansy only wanted him as a stud. She didn't want his soul, didn't want to know him.

Also, Voldemort was after him and was probably going to kill him. So there was that.

Draco knew his life hadn't always been like this. When he was younger, he used to go out with his Mummy into the fields surrounding the manor and pick flowers and have tea. Those memories were the happiest of his life. Sure, when his father found out he would break out the pimp cane, but that did not dull the happiness, the bliss of the memories.

Draco would give anything to feel happiness again...

A knock on the door. At last, the pants had come! Five hours after he'd ordered them, of course. He'd have his father speak to them about that. Preferably through the pimp cane of awesome. He bounded down the stairs, stopping short at the door. He flung it open. But it was not the delivery boy who stood there.

"Sir Elton John?" gasped Draco, wondering at this turn of events. Why, only the other day he'd been in London, shopping with his mother, when he'd heard one of the most beautiful songs ever on the radio. When the song was finished, the announcer claimed that it was written and performed by a "Sir Elton John". Normally, Draco despised Muggle music, but Sir Elton John's music was so beautiful that he was somehow taken in. After getting home, he'd locked the door and researched everything he could on the famous Muggle. And now here he was, standing at Draco's front door!

"Oh, I'm sorry, I believe I have the wrong house... I must be going..."

"NO!" Draco lunged out of the door and grabbed Sir Elton by the lapel. "I've been wanting to talk to you!"

"Darling, do you know how much this shirt cost? HANDS OFF!" shouted the small, rather pudgy knight.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry.. but I really need to talk to you," gasped Draco.

"Well... fine," grumbled the man. "But only for a few minutes. I'm due for a soiree at Mick Jagger's house, you know."

"Who?"

"What do you mean, who?"

"Oh, um... nothing. Would you like to come in?"

"I most certainly would, young man. Lead the way."

With that, Draco politely bowed Elton John into the house and shut the door. He led the man down a large hallway and into the drawing room. Sir Elton immediately made a line for a large, squashy armchair by the fireplace. Draco suppressed a groan. That was _his_ chair, dammit. But still, it was Sir Elton John. Draco wasn't going to make a fuss.

"Now," said the knight, settling comfortably into the chair, "how can I help you?"

Draco stood before the man, silently watching him. How could be possibly tell him about the thoughts, the feelings, the desires he had? He knew that Sir Elton probably understood more than anything else. He could sense it in the man's music, the man's lyrics.

He decided to take the risk.

"Well, you see, sir, I have these.. feelings."

"Oh?" said Sir Elton John, sitting up in his chair and looking very intensely into Draco's eyes. "And what feelings would those be?"

"Well, it's just... I'm so unhappy all of the time, and I want to.. just.. get rid of it all, you know? Throw it up, cut it out, do something, _anything _to get rid of them. I want them gone. I'm sick of them, I don't want them, I-"

And with that, Draco broke down. Sir Elton John looked at him pityingly.

"Come here, my boy," he said. Draco came towards him and sat down next to him.

"Now, my boy, I understand what you're going through. I've had feelings like these myself. But what you've got to realize is, it doesn't make you bad, or wrong, or anything of the sort. I know. I struggled for years with those sorts of things. But eventually I realized that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of you, because you know what? They're not you. They'll never be you. And besides, you'll probably never meet them anyway, so why should their opinion matter? It doesn't matter what others think. As long as what you do doesn't harm another, then in my opinion it is quite acceptable."

"But," sniffed Draco, "I don't even know why I'm so unhappy!"

"Oh, my poor boy," sighed Sir Elton. "Then I feel sorry for you; I truly do. You are starting out on a voyage of self-discovery, one that is not easy to begin or endure."

"But-but" blubbered Draco, "I don't even know where to begin!"

"First," said the knight softly, "you must examine yourself. Look within you. Open a window into your soul. Look into it. You might not like what you see there, but it is essential if you hope to become a whole, complete human being."

Draco looked at him, eyes wide, nose red and dripping.

"Go on," urged Sir Elton John. "Do it, boy. You need to. Your sanity and life depend upon it."

Draco closed his eyes. He concentrated, letting the thoughts flow through and through him. He dived down deeper, past memories, down to what he knew, had known all along, but always tried to deny. He slowly unwrapped the layers he'd created to hide it from himself, wincing as he did so. Finally, with the curtains lifted he peered through the window, completely bare to himself. It was not pretty; it was rather horrifying. But it was necessary. He looked. And he knew.

"It is all right, boy" whispered the knight. "We all have desires like that; it's what makes us human."

He did not draw back the curtains, but left them hanging there, floating. He swiftly swam to the surface and opened his eyes. Sir Elton John was looking at him admiringly. Draco felt the tears dry up.

"There, now. It was hard, wasn't it?" Draco nodded. "It was worth it though. And don't worry; the knowledge gets easier to live with."

Draco smiled wanly. He did not like the knowledge he'd gained through the window, but he felt better, knowing that the knight knew what he was going through, and did not think him weak or awful for wanting to recoil what was in the room deep in his soul.

"You know what?" said Sir Elton John. "You need some cheering up. Tell you what. Why don't you accompany me to Mick's party? I need a date, you know."

Draco looked up, horrified.

"A DATE!" he exclaimed.

"Why.. yes."

"NO! Absolutely not! What do you think I am, some sort of person who enjoys buggery?"

"Wh-what? You mean, you're not?"

"NO!"

"But-but the desires you mentioned. The unhappiness... I thought you had discovered a fondness for something!"

"Well... I did."

"What was it, then!"

"My father's pimp cane!"

Fin.


End file.
